


Make Me Worth It

by BleuWaters



Category: Gintama
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleuWaters/pseuds/BleuWaters
Summary: Hijikata Toshiro or Toushirou x asthmatic!reader. You like him. He seems like a great guy. But what can a girl do if he's bad for her?





	Make Me Worth It

Hijikata Toshiro smokes, what, five packs a day? Who knows. It seems like he always has a cigarette in his mouth. You rarely see him without one, and then it's only when he's getting ready to light another.

You knew it before you had your first date with him, and on your third date, you expressed your aversion to his habit.

“Hijikata-kun, I like you. I really do,” you said, “And I think we are...fairly compatible. Right?”

He offered a faint nod, avoiding eye contact because he could tell by your tone that the other boot was going to drop.

“I'm asthmatic. And your habit is...dangerous to my health, not to mention your own,” you murmured, “I am willing to keep this going. I think it's a good thing. But I go home sick after I see you, even if you don't smoke right in front of me.”

Hijikata frowned, but he nodded. He understood. He didn't care about his own health, but he cared about you and he valued you, and he made up his mind to quit.

That lasted an hour after the two of you said good night.

Since then, the two of you have grown in your relationship. Somewhat. Over the phone, the two of you are deeply in love. Okita has even seen a smile, a gentle smile, on his face when he talked to you.

But in person, the two of you could rarely keep from fighting.

Hijikata reeks.

Constantly.

He tries not to; he tries to have freshly laundered clothes that he stores at Okita’s house to keep them from stinking, and he showers well before seeing you, and he brushes his teeth and gargles cologne and chews mint nicotine gum when he's around you and can't smoke, but it's never enough. He always smells because the smoke stays in his lungs and seeps into every hair and every fiber he owns.

You refuse to kiss him. Ever.

Today, he's at your house, and the two of you watch a new movie that you rented. You love having dates with him, and you love cuddling, but you also hate it.

Why?

BECAUSE HE STINKS!! And it makes your throat itch, and gives you a headache. Not just a little, annoying headache; nah, a splitting headache, an excruciating headache. Practically a migraine.

You move off of Hijikata and lean on the other side of the sofa, pressing your feet up against his thigh.

There.

That's his cuddling.

He heaves a sigh and pulls out a piece of his gum. He clears his throat. “I would offer you a piece…”

“Hm.” You purse your lips. The subject has become taboo between the two of you.

Toshiro clears his throat again, then coughs. Your feigned attention for the movie turns to your beloved. His coughing is harsh, and you frown.

“Are you okay?” you ask gently, and Hijikata nods. He gets up, takes the barely-chewed gum out of his mouth, and spits out the open window. You wrinkle your nose. “You sure?”

“I'm fine!” he snaps, coughing again. You click the tv off.

“Don't snap at me,” you say softly, “You and your temper, gosh.”

“You're constantly disapproving; once in awhile it bothers me,” he hisses, “I'm sorry that my habit is something you can't stand.”

“It isn't that,” you say quickly, “It's that it's unhealthy. I worry about you!”

“I know you hate how I smell.”

“It makes me sick.”

“It's nauseating, like any other scent that a person doesn't like.”

“Toshi, I can't breath after you have a cigarette! I physically can't breathe! My airway closes up and I can't breathe,” you explain, for about the hundredth time, “And yes, for that reason and every other that says smoking is dangerous, I dislike it. I disapprove. I don't want to watch you die of lung cancer because of your ‘habit'. I don't want to watch you get those smoker’s lines around your mouth. I don't want you to keep stinking!

“I want to hug you and kiss you like normal couples do. I want to go over to your house to watch a movie sometime! I don't want to wonder if you're smoking a stupid cigarette when you pause while we’re talking on the phone! I want to be worth more to you than your addiction.”

“You are worth more to me!” Toshi exclaims, “But they calm me down!”

“They don't do a good job of it!!” you scream and, at this point, nothing holds your tears back, and your voice grows very small, “I'll send you the numbers, the statistics! I'll show you!”

“I'm going home,” mutters Hijikata, and he grabs his jacket off the back of the sofa, “I don't see why I put up with this. With your nagging.”

“Excuse me!?”

“If my smoking is such an addiction, why wouldn't you want to help me quit? You want me to quit but you don't want to help?”

“That is not so.”

“And my temper! I may have a temper, but at least I don't whine about everything!”

“Oh, I whine?”

“ ‘I don't like you because you smoke! I disapprove of you because you smoke!’ Yes! Whine!”

“Don't you dare twist my words!”

“That's what you said.”

“Don't you dare! Get out of my house!”

“I was already going!”

“Well, go faster!”

“Fine!”

“Fine!!”

As soon as the door slams, the water works explode and you give the armrest a solid punch, refusing to turn this into a Disney movie, even as tears roll in fat droplets down your cheeks.

“Stupid Toshi. Stupid, stupid, mean…” You know that he lit himself a cigarette right after stepping outside and it really worries you.

One of these days, his next cigarette will be his last.

~o0o~

Toshiro barks a strong word at the ground when he discovers that his lighter is out of juice. He doesn't swear in front of you either because you don't like it. Swearing is a way easier habit to quit. Way easier.

Heck, just because he loves you, he vows never to swear again.

Easy.

But his stinkin’ cigarettes are an entirely different matter. And he completely HATES the nicotine gum. It makes him feel like a fussy baby that's settling for a replacement. The Shinsengumi would get a heck of a kick out of watching him chew weaning gum like a cow. He's not graceful about it. He smacks.

Not to mention, the gum is more expensive than the cigs.

But it's a settlement that works for the two of you, for the most part. It's just that Hijikata doesn't carry the gum over to his life outside of your relationship, nor does he have any intention to quit.

He lights his cigarette with a match, backup for if his lighter fizzled out on him.

It wouldn't be a lie to say that he enjoys smoking, but it also wouldn't be a lie to say that he wishes he never started, for your sake.

He sucks in the first breath, then slowly sighs it out.

“Umai,” he whispers. He enjoys his cigarette as he walks home, one hand in his pocket, the other plucking the butt from his mouth from time to time so he can admire the jet of smoke blown past his lips. He likes the mouth feel to smoking. It's difficult to replicate and even more difficult to explain, so he never bothers. He just enjoys his cigarettes.

When he gets home, he sighs. His place does stink, like stale smoke and dirty dishes. The walls have taken on a yellow tinge of buildup. Toshiro huffs and throws his pack of cigs onto his messy coffee table, then pulls out his phone to call you. As the phone rings, he snuffs his butt into an ashtray.

‘We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Press-’

He hits the number key to go directly to voicemail.

“Hey, (f/n). I just wanted to apologize; I said some unfair stuff that I regret saying. And I did twist your words ‘cause I was angry. ‘M sorry. Anyway. Um...I'll talk to you later, then. Good night.”

~o0o~

You stare at your phone as if it's some foreign thing you've never seen before. You intentionally didn't answer, you and Hijikata both know, but now you have to decide whether or not to listen to the message. Anger still sizzles in your gut, so you decide to wait awhile until you calm down.

You log on to your work account and get some stuff done. Your work is all online.

You make yourself a cup of tea to relax, and a quiet chant of ‘I forgive him’ fills the otherwise-empty house. A long sigh marks the true forgiveness and you listen to the message.

You text him.

‘Don't answer my phone call.’

After a few minutes, you call him and it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, baby. Apology accepted. Do you want to quit? If you want to quit, I'm up for helping you. I'll be the first person to jump in to help and support you. And I'm sorry if I seem really negative about the whole thing. I don't want to tear you down. Okay? We can figure this out together. Just let me know what kind of plan you want to try. Maybe call me tomorrow of you feel like it. You're my sweetheart and I never want you to feel insufficient or like I'm being judgemental. I've had my own addictions in my life, my own struggles, so I'm not one to point fingers, okay? Good night, bb.”

You hang up and get ready for bed. A thought flickers through your mind that makes you wonder.

Am I a smoking fiend? A tobacco cop?

Perhaps so, but with reason. Tobacco-related illness and disease kills one person every six seconds.

You have every reason to worry about your beloved.

~o0o~

“I'm eating lunch,” says Toshiro, “I thought I'd call since you asked me to.”

“Mm, I love that about you,” you murmur, rubbing your eyes. Sleepy you slept till noon today. “Always taking initiative. Whatcha having? For lunch?”

“Soba.”

“With mayonnaise?”

“Mm.”

“You're funny,” you say, “I think it sounds gross, but, y’know, you do you.”

“You put bacon on your ice cream.”

“Everyone does that,” you tease, and you stretch out on your bed, groaning as your back cracks, “Did you think about my voicemail?”

“Yeah. I'll come over after work; we can talk about it.”

“Okay. When will you be done?”

“Pretty soon. What time is it now?”

You glance at your clock. “Almost twelve thirty.”

“I'm done at one.”

“Early start?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Well, if you're coming over, I'm going to take a shower,” you say, rolling out of bed to kick yourself into gear.

“Okay,” says Hijikata, “See you soon.”

“Buh-bye.”

Toshi hangs up and sets his phone down with a clatter.

“I think Hijikata-san is having girl trouble,” whispers Okita, “Better him than me.”

“Don't spread rumors about you higher ups!!” roars Hijikata, and he hurls him chopsticks at the jester, “It's none of your business, anyway!”

Gladly, at one o'clock, he leaves work, tired and hoping that the time he gets to spend with you this afternoon will be peaceful. He pops a piece of his gum into his mouth as he changes out of his uniform, and sighs as the nicotine seeps into his system. Nobody notices the faint lump in his cheek as he walks outside, nor would they care if they had.

He can't tell if he stinks. He imagines he does, because every time he's thought he didn't, you've wrinkled your nose at him. Not much he can do about it at this point, and it's a beautiful spring day, so the two of you can talk outside if the smell is too strong.

Hijikata’s sandals slap against the soles of his feet at the clip he walks and, frankly, he doesn't notice the two men struggling with a barrel of ale until it crashes down in front of him and soaks him.

“What the crap!? Watch it!!” he barks, huffing as the men scramble to apologize.

“Please, come in and have a drink on us. If our boss finds out, we're dead,” says the taller.

“Yeah, yeah! Have a drink!” exclaims the shorter.

“I don't have time for you,” says Hijikata, “Save the favor for later.” He scoffs as he stomps away, swiping as droplets of the smelly stuff that hasn't soaked in.

He reaches your house soon after, and he knows he stinks of alcohol and...well, alcohol, at least.

A bright smile welcomes him, but he expects it when it falls.

“Someone spilled a barrel of ale on me,” he explains quickly, spitting his depleted gum into the small trash can sitting at the end of the sofa, “May I use your shower?”

“Sure, baby, go ahead,” you say, “It may run cold; I did just take one.”

“That's fine,” he says briefly.

“I'll wash your yukata for you,” you volunteer, “And you can borrow one of mine for the time being.”

You duck into your bedroom to grab the garment, then hand it off. Toshi frowns softly, but it could be worse. It's light green; it could be pink. It's fairly gender neutral.

“I'll make us some tea and popcorn,” you say definitively, “Just toss the yukata outside the bathroom and I'll get it washing.”

“Okay.”

Toshiro does as he's told and gets into the shower while you go into the kitchen.

And only after he wets his hair down and reaches for the shampoo does he realize...

He's going to have to use your limited edition pomegranate and lime Tropix Immersion two-in-one shampoo-and-conditioner and body wash set. And one of your lavender-colored washcloths. And towels.

“Crap.”

~o0o~

You offer Toshi a smile when he walks into the kitchen. “I forgot about my shampoo,” you say sheepishly.

“ ‘Least I smell good,” he says, taking the offered cup of tea from you, “Doesn't matter.”

“Okay. Now, what was your idea you told me about?”

“Right…” Toshiro takes a breath, his brows knitting. “I think...that we should think about taking a break. From each other.”

“Wait, what?” you ask, “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. We see each other almost every day; I just think...it may be...excessive. Right now.”

Tears fill your eyes. It's hard to breathe, like you were slapped across the cheek for no reason.

“What kind of a break? Like, a break up break? Or...like, a week break?”

“Just some time apart.”

“How much time?”

“As much as we feel is necessary.”

“I don't get it…” you whisper, “Is this because of last night? Because of the smoking issue?”

“Okay, yes. It is. It is, and it's about me and you. I don't think we've been doing well lately.”

“Because of this issue between us,” you reply, your voice taking on that smallness it had yesterday, “If we figure that out together, I'm sure we’ll do better.”

“I don't know if we will, (f/n).” Toshi slips his arms around you and you stretch to wrap yours around his neck. There is a faint mustiness of smoke, but he smells nice otherwise and you want to hold onto him. Toshi slides his fingers through your hair. “I want the best for you…”

“What if you're the best for me?” you whisper, “I don't want to take a break, Toshiro. I want to...I just...I'm sorry if I made it hard for you.”

Hijikata says nothing more. He kisses your temple firmly, then walks away, shaken up himself and unwilling to be seen as anything but in control. He slips into his sandals and leaves the house, leaves you, in a state of shock.

“He didn't say it was permanent,” you tell yourself, tears dripping abundantly down your cheeks, “Just some time…”

As it turns out, your beloved stops answering your cheerful morning messages. He stops answering your calls. You even see him outside the Shinsengumi headquarter one day, and you wave, but he ducks back inside, a billow of cigarette smoke proving he was there.

Time passes and slowly, you give up hope. His phone number begins to grow obsolete. His yukata still hangs in your closet, kept clean for if he ever wants it back.

One night, after a long day of work and even longer day of family trouble, you find yourself scrounging for supper in a nearly empty refrigerator, and your eye lands on a bottle of mayonnaise. Frankly, it's your last straw, and you throw out the bottle in a fit of anger and upset, sobs wracking your body until you can't breathe and have to get your inhaler out.

Desperate for him, you message your beloved. How long has it been since you last spoke? Four months? Six?

‘I miss you.’

That's all you send. It speaks for itself and needs no further explanation. If he comes, he comes. If not…

It's over.

~o0o~

Nine months after the split, you've made a quiet name for yourself as a tobacco protester. In the night, you sneak around and put up posters. It's dangerous, sometimes, and you've been mugged, twice.

Honestly, you've decided that it would take more than a little scare to keep you from your mission. You stop carrying anything valuable with you while you sneak around, and you have a can of strong mace clutched in your hand at all times.

You become notorious. A newspaper tips their hat to your endeavor and publish a set of statistics along with a photograph of your graphic art. You've gone so far as to go to a morgue to photograph the lungs of heavy smokers that have died of lung cancer.

‘Who is this mysterious protagonist? Below we have included a short list of their most shocking facts!

One person dies every six seconds from tobacco-related diseases.

Tobacco kills around 6 million people each year. More than 5 million of those deaths are the result of direct tobacco use while more than 600,000 are the result of non-smokers being exposed to second-hand smoke.

 

168,000 children died of secondhand smoke this past year.’

You smile softly, happy that your work is being recognized and spread.

You put the paper down on your coffee table, then decide to curl up woth a good book and a cup of tea, a treat for yourself after you hard work.

And, like any timing for a busy person, the moment you sit down is the moment that someone knocks on your door.

“Just a second!” you call. You scramble to make yourself look halfway decent. Your hair’s a mess, you haven't showered, and you only barely brushed your teeth th his morning. You glance at the clock. Two in the bleak, rainy afternoon. Who could that be?

You tie a robe around yourself and run to the door before whoever it is can knock again.

“Yes?” You smile politely in welcome, but the face you see surprises you enough to make you gasp. “Toshiro…”

He steps in out of the rain, his uniform completely soaked, and he cups your face in his hands.

“I quit,” he whispers, and before you can reply, before you can even start to think, he touches his lips to yours. It's a delicate touch, a gentle one, one that's been a long time coming and sends a bolt of electricity up your spine. He kisses you again, more firmly, and you clutch at his jacket, bunching the dark material in your fists to keep him there.

“Where were you?” you ask, and he rasps his tongue over your lower lip, “Why didn't you answer my messages?”

“It was hard to quit,” he replies, pausing briefly to close his mouth over your lip, “I didn't want to hurt you in the process. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” you say, and your words are swallowed up by him.

Finally, the two of you part breathlessly.

“(F/n), I'm sorry for abandoning you the way I did. I never want to be apart from you again,” Hijikata says, “Can I ask you to do something difficult?”

“What's that?” you ask, your face hot and your heart full.

With his forehead pressed to yours, Toshiro offers a beautiful smile, his blue eyes searching yours happily.

“Marry me?”

**Author's Note:**

> I dont own him or his ridiculous smoking habit  
> P.s. everyone's speaking japanese. I just put the real words for the effect, so it has a nice ring, a nice feel to it. A nice flow to read through~ ;>  
> P.p.s. nicotine gum is not chewed like regular gum. You chew it for a moment, then tuck it like you would chewing tobacco. Swallowing the saliva can make you feel sick; same with swallowing the gum. I have put some statistics in the story about how smoking, nicotine and tobacco products are dangerous, and they are accurate and up-to-date (but the one for children dying this past year is actually for children dying in 2004. I didnt want to fiddle with timelines). DONT start tobacco products if you havent and get help to quit them if you have <3  
> Questions, comments, concerns, or character requests, feel free to let me know ^u^


End file.
